Into the Woods
by The Red Celt
Summary: Fill for the kinkmeme: Shepard and Garrus pursue an enemy deep into a heavily wooded area, and wind up far from the shuttle. They find a way station to hole up in for the night, and their feelings for each other come to a head in spectacular fashion. One-shot lemony goodness, rated M for good reason.


Shepard was like a rabid varren on the battlefield—once she got her claws in someone, that person was going to die regardless of what it took to make said person dead, which was why she was hurtling pell mell through the woods in hot pursuit of a small group of three batarian slavers (which had started off as a much larger group) who just happened to get on her bad side by taking a shot at Kasumi. She might have tolerated it if the shot had been fired at her, but they had messed with her team and by god she wasn't going to let that stand.

She'd sent Kasumi back to the shuttle with the order to standby and get some medigel so she and Garrus could "hunt them down and tear them a new asshole", which sounded to Garrus like a damn fine way to spend a cool autumnal afternoon like this one. The planet they were currently blasting their way across was mostly trees in this hemisphere, great tall specimens the likes of which Garrus hadn't seen before but Shepard had grinned as soon as she stepped off the shuttle, inhaled deeply, and declared that it was exactly like someplace called "Missouri".

They happened across an all-terrain vehicle parked a little ways off the main path and Shepard hopped aboard without a second thought, cranked the engine, and yanked Garrus up behind her before putting foot to floor and nearly pulling a wheelie as the tires fought for purchase on the thick carpet of red, orange, and yellow leaves. He grabbed onto her with one arm and drew his rifle with the other, sighting down the barrel at the batarian bringing up the rear. His head exploded in red mist and Shepard's ears rang, the crack of the gunshot echoing off the trees. The second followed suit in similar fashion, and Shepard whooped a gleeful battle cry as they closed the distance to the last one.

"You take this one," he said, yelling over the rushing wind and growl of the engine.

"You sure?"

"Be my guest."

She grinned, drew her hand cannon, and waited until they'd pulled up almost level with him before pulling the trigger. The batarian got off one lucky shot before tumbling off his ATV with a brand new hole in his chest, and the engine of their vehicle sputtered and died.

Shepard leapt to the ground and started searching the body for any identification or information about the slaver ring he might have on his person; probably futile, but they'd been lucky before. Unfortunately, this was not one of those times and Shepard sighed when she came up empty-handed except for a few extra heatsinks, which she pocketed, tossing two to Garrus.

"That was satisfying," she said, and turned her face up to the sky with a serene smile on her face. He'd never seen her look so peaceful before, which was made even more odd given what they'd done to get to this place. Garrus looked around and saw nothing but trees in every direction, their gray-brown trunks stretching up to the canopy. Dappled light filtered down through the leaves like carnival glass and moved in ripples of green, dappled light on the forest floor. It was beautiful, no doubt about that, but he'd lost his bearings and didn't know which way the shuttle lay anymore.

"Hey, Shepard, you might want to call for an evac. I don't think we're getting back the way we came." He kicked the disabled ATV for emphasis, and it hissed indignantly at him.

"Yeah, okay." She pressed the communicator in her ear to activate it and said, "Kasumi, what's your status?"

"_Alive and well. Just awaiting your triumphant return._"

"We need you to come pick us up. Can you get a lock on our location?"

"_Yeah, I've got you, but there's no way to land a shuttle anywhere near you. Too many trees_."

"Dammit," she swore softly and Garrus groaned. "What's the closest clearing?"

"_I'm not sure, the map of this area's incomplete. Not a lot of habitation in this part of the planet._"

"Standby, let me get my bearings and I'll get back to you."

"_Roger that, Shepard_."

"Well," she said, turning to Garrus, "up for a little hike?"

"And here I was just thinking that you never take me anywhere nice," he said with a wink and he let her lead the way. He wasn't sure what she was looking for, but about twenty minutes of walking later she evidently found it.

"This is a good one," she said, patting the trunk of a tree.

"A good what?"

Rather than answer, she started taking off her armor and laying the pieces neatly against the trunk. Her undersuit clung to her body like a second skin and Garrus watched, oscillating between confusion and appreciation of the view.

"I'm assuming there's a good explanation for this," he said. She was down to just her undersuit now; she'd even gone so far as to take off her boots and she flexed her strange, flat feet with those stubby little toes.

"We can't get a good idea of the lay of the land from down here, so I'm gonna climb this tree and see if I can't find a good place for the shuttle to land."

Garrus' jaw dropped. "Hang on, you're going to _climb_ that? All the way up there?"

Shepard grinned at his worried expression and clapped him on the shoulder. "Don't worry, I've done this hundreds of times. Come here and give me a boost." Garrus shrugged and laced his fingers together in front of him and she stepped onto his hands, gripping his shoulders as he lifted her up to the bottom branch and tried to ignore her body passing a hairsbreadth in front of his face. She pulled herself up onto the thick limb, inched closer to the trunk, and started to climb with remarkable speed. Garrus watched, fascinated; he'd known that humans were supposed to be descended from primates, but this was the first time he'd seen hard evidence of that fact. Her extra fingers and toes were perfectly suited to climbing and balancing on the thinning branches, and she grew smaller and smaller as she went higher. A tight knot of worry formed in his gut when he imagined what a fall from that height would do to her, and he followed her progress nervously.

"You know, I think Wrex was right," he called.

"What do you mean?" Her voice was faint and far away.

"You really are a pyjack." She laughed and shook her head.

Up in the high branches, she could see that the forest stretched off across the mountains, an undulating ocean of color that looked so similar to Earth that she could almost believe she was back on her home planet. Off in the distance she could see the gleam of metal, and a little farther off there was a break in the trees that looked wide enough to suit their purposes.

"What do you see?" Garrus called up to her. He looked so tiny down there, and she had to grip the tree tighter as a wave of vertigo washed over her. She did all right with heights as long as she didn't think too hard about the possibility of a long drop and sudden stop if she lost her hold.

"There's a way station-for hikers, probably-north-northeast of here, and a clearing east of that. Looks like our best bet."

"Sounds good. Now get down here, you're making me nervous."

The descent was always slower and she wished she'd thought to pack a rope. One never knew when rope would come in handy, and she made a mental note to include it in her survival kit for next time. Her focus narrowed to the next branch, then the next one, finding good handholds and lowering herself down step by step. When she was about fifteen feet from the ground, the branch she was standing on snapped off and she lost her balance, scraping her hip on the jagged end of the limb before falling the rest of the way down. The fallen leaves and soft earth below made the landing a bit softer, but she still hit the ground with a bone-jarring thud. Garrus hurried over and helped her up.

"You all right?"

"Fine," she said, then hissed through gritted teeth when she tried to put her weight on her left foot. Nothing felt broken, but she'd really banged the hell out of her leg on the way down. She limped a few steps before her leg limbered up enough for her to use it, but there was still a pronounced hobble in her walk. She put her armor back on, grimacing when she latched the part encasing her left thigh and hip, while Garrus watched with concern.

"You should probably have a look at that leg, Shepard."

"Aww, I didn't know you cared," she teased. It stung like a mad bastard when her undersuit rubbed against her leg and she didn't want to think too hard about what might be going on under there. It didn't feel like it was bleeding too heavily, so she was pretty sure she'd make it to the way station.

"You're too stubborn for your own good, you know that?"

"You're not the first person to say that."

"And I won't be the last, either. Well, if you're determined to let your leg fall off, let's get moving. It'll be dark soon and that way station might be a good spot to make camp."

They made their way through the underbrush in the direction she'd noted. The going was slow even without her injured leg, and by the time the sun set she was seriously considering asking Garrus to piggyback her the rest of the way. Her need to cling to her dignity was the only thing stopping her, though, and when the metallic shell of the station came into view, she was sore and miserable.

"Oh, thank god," she huffed when she found the door unlocked. The place obviously hadn't been used recently and the air was stale, but there was a generator outside with a separate fuel supply along with a stock of blankets and ration bars. The warmth had fallen out of the day like water through a sieve and the chill that settled over the mountain had locked up her abused muscle and made walking even harder.

Garrus found a med kit in one of the cabinets and carried it over to Shepard, who was busy taking off her armor again. "Do you have a knife or something?" he asked.

"Yeah, why?"

"To cut your undersuit so we can get to that leg."

She frowned at him and said, "You're not slicing up my suit. Patching this material is a huge pain in the ass." To prove the point, she unzipped it and peeled it off her shoulders in a stiff shell (glad she'd elected to wear a tank top and shorts instead of underwear, or nothing, as was sometimes the case), then started to pull it down but had to stop mid-way down her hips. The damn thing had stuck to the wound and was taking the newly-formed scab with it. "Crap."

"Here, let me help." He kneeled behind her and said, "On the count of three. One, two, _three_," and on three he pulled the suit down and off while Shepard drove her fist into the wall to take the edge off the stinging pain in her thigh. "Whoa, that looks awful."

Shepard glanced down and saw that the whole side of her thigh had turned into a massive bruise with a shallow but long gash that ran from her hip almost all the way to her knee. The whole thing was overlaid with red abrasions from the stiff fabric of her suit like someone had rubbed it with sandpaper. It would heal, but there'd likely be another scar to add to her already impressive collection.

Garrus prodded it lightly with one talon and the sting made her hiss through her teeth, but something about the sight of him that close to her exposed skin (purple though it was) did very nice things to her insides. It hadn't been so long ago that they'd agreed to spend the night together some time and since then she'd begun to look at him differently. She noticed the way his face paint brought out the bright blue of his eyes and softened the hard edges of his face, the way his armor was contoured to his impossibly thin waist, and his steady and confident gait. She'd caught him noticing, too, across the room when she got her coffee or in the shuttle after a hard mission. The fact that they were finally alone on an isolated mountain with nothing to do until morning wasn't lost on her at all, and she wondered if the same thought had crossed his mind.

He had a tube of medigel and she started to reach for it but he lightly batted her hand away. She raised an eyebrow at him, but he just smiled. "Let me," he said, and his voice was softer than the tone he usually used with her. At some point he'd taken his gloves off and it was with bare hands that he spread the cooling gel over her leg and up under the elastic band of her shorts. His skin was rougher than a human's, but smoother than she'd have thought—like thick elk-neck hide rather than metal. He was intent on his work, but she couldn't take her eyes off the contrast of his dark plates overlaying her pale skin.

"How's that feel?"

"Much better, thanks." The hand not tending to her wound wrapped around her knee to keep her still, but the warm weight there made her hyper-aware of his every move. His thumb circled slowly, lazily on the back of her knee and she put a hand on his shoulder to hold herself steady.

"Are you cold?" he asked.

"No, why?"

He looked up at her and she saw in his face her own thoughts reflected. "You're shaking."

It was true, she realized, and looked at the floor in embarrassment. "I'm fine, really."

He got to his feet and stood mere inches from her. All it would have taken was a strong breeze to push them together. "I'll go out and start up the generator if you figure out how to unfold those cots." He pointed into the corner at a pair of ancient foldaway beds and his arm passed beside her, deliberately not touching.

"Yeah, okay. On it." Her limp was gone, but she was still favoring her leg as she went over to attend to the beds. By the time she looked around, Garrus had gone and there came the sound of a pull-start motor from outside. After a couple tries, he got the thing running and she went to turn on the radiator. Her arms were starting to mound up in goosebumps, but it wasn't too cold yet. The night had just begun, however, and she wasn't sure what this planet's night cycle might be like.

Garrus came back in and shut the door with a shiver. "I'm pretty sure I mentioned this on Noveria, but did you know that turians hate the cold?"

"I may have heard that somewhere," she said and let her hair down, the red waves falling between her shoulder blades. "Want something?"

"Huh?" He pulled his gaze away from her waist and the way her shirt pulled up to expose the lean muscle there when she lifted her arms.

"Do you want something to eat? It looks like the ration bars are levo-dextro."

"Oh. Uh, yeah, that'd be good." He sat on one of the beds and started taking off his own armor now that the room was warming up. The rise in temperature may have had something to do with the woman across the room, who was rising up on tip-toes to reach the ration bars. The swell of her calf was a little strange without spurs, but he couldn't deny that the curve of her ankle and the lines of her legs were very nice to look at. The aesthetics of humans were so different from his own people, but they had a soft grace that had made the asari and quarians so highly prized for centuries. Add to all that the fact that she was the strongest person he knew and had already expressed an interest, all of which made watching her walk around in what amounted to underwear that much more interesting.

She brought him a bar and sat beside him, leaning against the wall. She inhaled sharply as she stretched her leg out straight behind him. "You know, I think I can count the number of times I've seen you out of armor on one hand—on one of _your _hands—and still have fingers left over."

"Well, I've never seen you out of uniform before, so it looks like tonight's a night for firsts." He bit into the bar and wondered if whoever manufactured these things purposely made them taste like wood or if they were actually made of sawdust. "How's the leg?"

"Getting better. The bruise is the worst part; I'll have to get Chakwas to check for hematomas when we get back to the ship."

"What's a hematoma?"

"Your people don't get bruises?"

He thumped his chest and said, "Natural armor makes us hard to hurt, Shepard."

"Yeah, yeah, apex predators and all that nonsense." She nudged him with her knee and smiled.

"Don't sell yourself short, that was some pretty impressive climbing. Where'd you learn to do that?"

"Have you ever seen a human-style playground? We teach our kids to climb from an early age; it's embedded in our DNA. And it's only impressive until you fall and wind up with a bruise the size of a small asteroid on your leg."

He snickered and patted her knee. "There, there. It wasn't _that_ bad. You fell very . . . gracefully."

"You're such a charmer." She finished her bar and he took her empty wrapper to the trash, giving her ample time to notice the way his own undersuit clung to his thin, well-muscled limbs. His plates stood out against the fabric and she wanted to know more than anything what they felt like under her hands.

Garrus stood by the light switch and asked, "Ready to turn in for the night?"

"I think so." She carefully covered herself with a thermal blanket and lay on her back so nothing would stick to the rapidly healing gash on her leg.

"Lights out, then." He flicked the switch and the room was doused in darkness, silent and complete. The only illumination came from the icy slivers of the triple moons outside, pink and blue merging into a pale purple color that lay in slatted bars on the floor. Her eyes hadn't fully adjusted yet, but she could see Garrus' silhouette sit on the cot beside hers, and he looked over his shoulder at her.

"Would it make you uncomfortable if I took off this suit? It's just that I've been in it all day . . ." He rubbed his neck absently as the sentence trailed off.

"You don't have to worry about making me uncomfortable," she said, and it wasn't until the words were out of her mouth that she realized how closely they mirrored what he'd said in the battery only a few days ago.

He shrugged out of the sleeves then lay back, lifted his hips, and pushed the suit down to his legs. Once he was down to just his shorts, he pulled the covers up and lay on his side to look at her. The gap between their cots was only two inches or so wide, and he reached across it to smooth a lump in her blanket. His hand lingered, a silent invitation. Shepard touched his fingers lightly with the tips of hers, tracing his roughened knuckles and the curve of his talons. When she looked up, he was watching her intently.

"So, about that thing we were talking about before . . ."

"Which thing?"

"Uh, well . . . you . . . and me . . ." He turned his hand over and laced his fingers with hers. Three fingers against five, threading together and coming apart, playing over each other in the darkening night.

"Being together," she finished.

"Do you still want to?" he asked softly, and there was no question about what he meant in his subvocals. She nodded and he scooted closer to the gap with a sigh and the words, "Thank the spirits."

He pulled her close and there was a moment when neither of them was sure what to do. Shepard inched closer, hesitantly, and her body flooded with warmth when his mouth pressed lightly against hers. His movements were unsure and somewhat awkward, but the taste of her was nice and he could see why people did this, this kissing thing.

"Am I . . . am I doing this right?"

He felt her lips curve up in smile. "So far, but I think some more practice would be good." She kissed him again, redoubling her efforts and really pouring herself into it. She hitched her leg up on his hip and guided him on top of her. The bruise on her leg protested at the sudden movement, but it wasn't so bad. Besides, she had Garrus' tongue on her neck to distract her. She threw her head back and arched up into him and he kneaded her breasts, first one, then the other. When she reached up to massage the tender skin at the back of his neck, he moaned aloud and ground his hips into her, and she felt his thick hardness pressed against her.

"I want you," she whispered. "I've wanted you for so long."

"Shepard—"

"I think were officially on a first name basis now, big guy." He huffed a broken chuckle and threaded his fingers through her hair, feeling the individual strands tug slightly.

"Jane, then." He took her hand and ran it down her body to her stomach and beneath the waistband of her shorts where he stopped. "Show me." When she just looked confusedly up at him, he slid his hand under hers and said, "Show me how to touch you."

Shepard swallowed hard and started to pull her shorts down but they hit her wound and she sucked in a pained breath. Once Garrus figured out what was going on, he hooked his talons into the material and pulled, shearing through it easily. Eyes wide, she looked up at him, panting.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to make you nervous." She put a finger over his mouth and shut him up.

"That was . . ." With a shaky sigh, she took his hand again and pressed his finger against her center, the smooth pad warm against her skin as he found the sensitive nub of flesh there and made slow circles around it.

"One of your fantasies?"

"You could say that."

He rubbed her carefully, those dangerous talons a breath from her most sensitive parts, and she shivered and moaned into his neck. "Right there?" She nodded again, her hair tickling his mandibles and her fingers digging into his shoulders. His member throbbed with every beat of his heart and he rocked his hips with the motions of his fingers as he brought her closer to the edge. Her low voice in his ear was a whispering rush of encouragement that spurred him on. Within moments she cried out and clasped his hand, slowing his movements to draw out the aftershocks that had her breathless with her lips parted and her eyes closed in ecstasy.

Once she went still, Garrus took off his own shorts the same way he'd removed hers and the two garments soon lay in tatters on the floor. Shepard reached down and encircled him with her slender fingers, drawing a shudder and groan from deep within his chest. With her legs around his waist and her eyes demanding his attention, she guided him to her body and gasped when he slid inside her. He bent to kiss her, his mandibles fluttering and his breathing unsteady.

"You feel so good," he murmured, and nipped at her earlobe. He moved within her delicious wetness, slowly at first and then picking up speed. The room filled with the sound of plates on skin, their voices uttering little nothing phrases that slipped past their translators and descended into babble in their native tongues as they moved together in a dance that transcended species and distance. Here, now, there was only the warmth of another's body, the purple moonlight, and the soft shushing susurrus of the wind in the trees.

Shepard cried out again and told him that she was so close, please don't stop, and he fought for control. She felt good, so damned good, and more than that was the knowledge that this was Shepard underneath him, his best friend and lover, who was clinging to him like she would float away if she didn't hang on to something. A moment later, she buried her face in his shoulder and set her teeth against his plates, not hard enough to hurt but enough to get his attention, and came with a wracking cry. He followed soon after, thrusting hard and deep into her, the force of his release making his arms tremble with the effort of holding himself up and he felt himself swell within her, temporarily fusing their bodies together.

He collapsed onto his elbows and rested his forehead against hers, panting hard. For a moment, neither of them could move or were the least bit inclined to do so, and Shepard was somewhat surprised to find that he was—

"Garrus?"

"Hmmm?" he hummed drowsily.

"Are you . . . is this the 'knotting' thing that Mordin mentioned?"

He looked down at where they were still joined, then back up at her. "Uh, yeah. Humans don't do that?"

"Nope." He looked ready to apologize, but she stopped him with a shush. "It's no problem, I was just wondering."

"Oh. Okay." He relaxed and lazily nuzzled her cheek and neck, rumbling deep in his chest all the while. "Can I ask you something?"

"Go for it, big guy." She chuckled. "You know, I've been calling you that forever, never knowing how accurate that was."

"There's a reason I never corrected you." His mandibles twitched in a smirk, and she slapped his arm. "I wanted to ask you . . . Well, you said that you wanted me 'for so long.'" Shepard's face grew serious and she looked past him at the ceiling. "How long?"

"Umm . . ." There was really no way to say it without sounding like a teenager with a crush, so she just took a deep breath and let it spill out. "Since before we went to Virmire. I don't even know if you remember, but there was one night I was up late, looking over survey charts for resources, and you brought me coffee."

He thought for a minute, then comprehension dawned on him. "Oh, right, I remember that. So, that was the moment, huh?" The knot was beginning to abate, but he wanted to stay like this with her for as long as he could get away with.

"Yeah, that was the moment. Took my sweet time telling you, though, didn't I?"

"At least I know now." They stayed wrapped around each other until the stiffness settled back into her abused hip and he pulled out of her with a sigh. She pushed their beds together until the gap disappeared and relaxed into his arms, warm and boneless. Morning would come soon, and with it Kasumi in the shuttle that would bear them back to the Normandy, back to the war and all the insanity that went with it, but here in the still forest they had this little pocket of calm, and that was enough.


End file.
